


One Kernel at a Time

by Rhaized



Series: Adventures of Mary and Marisa [3]
Category: His Dark Materials (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But Mary is so soft and she totally understands, Even though Marisa is still frustrated with herself, F/F, Marisa is in charge of the popcorn, Mary and Marisa are having a movie night, it doesn't go well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:53:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28102746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhaized/pseuds/Rhaized
Summary: When Mary asked Marisa to make some popcorn for their movie night, Marisa didn’t expect it to be so difficult.
Relationships: Marisa Coulter/Mary Malone
Series: Adventures of Mary and Marisa [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073954
Comments: 10
Kudos: 64





	One Kernel at a Time

When Mary asked Marisa to make some popcorn for their movie night, Marisa didn’t expect it to be so  _ difficult. _

Things in this world were not what Marisa would consider exactly intuitive. Every gadget beeped and chirped with some kind of secret code that one needed insider knowledge to decipher. The phones had a specific sound for everything, be it text messages or emails or phone calls or other notifications that Marisa still didn’t understand. Computers made a lot of different noises, too, all for very valid reasons—most of which didn't really make any sense to her.

But she didn’t want to admit that to anyone,  _ especially  _ Mary. She stood in front of the microwave, looking down at the popcorn bag Mary had given her.  _ Helpful hint,  _ it read in bold, capital letters, followed by a bulleted list.  _ Popping times are affected by the model, and/or power of your microwave,  _ the first bullet read.  _ Do not use the popcorn button,  _ the second instructed. It was so clear, and Marisa could understand it just fine, but why did it still feel so daunting? Why did she stare down at it and think, quite shamefully, that she had no idea what she was supposed to do? 

_ Are you alright?  _ her daemon asked her from his place beside Mary on the living room sofa. That damn thing  _ loved  _ to spend time with Mary. Morning, noon, and night he pranced around her, looking at what she was doing and purring as she showered him with attention and showed him how to do things. It was odd, really, for them to be so close (and for Mary to not even have a daemon herself). Marisa didn’t like it. And she didn’t like it  _ now  _ as he was checking up on her, so she ignored him and shoved the bag into the machine, thinking about what a proper time for cooking would be. Five minutes, maybe, she thought, carefully pressing the five button followed by two zeros.

As she waited, Marisa grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge to bring over to Mary. She was more than halfway through her first one, and Marisa wanted to prove that  _ she,  _ too, was perceptive of such matters, as  _ Mary _ was always the one checking in on  _ her _ and doing nice things without Marisa even needing to ask. She fiddled around with the instruments in the drawer, trying to find the bottle opener that Mary used. Marisa couldn’t remember what it looked liked, so she grabbed instead the next best thing: a can opener. She centered the wedge on the beer cap, gently squeezing the handle and pulling  _ up.  _ She heard the light “pop” and was satisfied as it came easily off. 

This wasn’t so hard, she thought, tossing the cap in the garbage can and then twirling around back toward the living room. She could do this. Mary’s world was still new to her, but it was  _ nothing.  _ Marisa could master it just as she mastered everything else. 

“For you,” she said sweetly, bending down and offering the bottle to Mary. The other woman and the monkey had been laughing about something on Mary’s phone—a picture of sorts, Marisa gathered. 

Mary looked over at her and smiled, amusement from the picture still etched onto the thin lines of her face. “Thanks, love! That was so thoughtful of you.”

“I can be  _ very _ thoughtful,” Marisa drawled, narrowing her eyes and smiling. Mary nodded distractedly before turning back to the monkey, letting out a practical  _ howl  _ as she swiped to another picture. Marisa’s daemon screeched with delight, too, pounding his little paw on the back of the sofa as he hopped up and down on the cushion.

Marisa rolled her eyes and went back to the kitchen. The five minutes must be almost up by now, she figured, sighing while looking down at her nails. 

As she heard the timer go off and opened the microwave door, however, the most repulsive, torched smell hit her squarely in the face.

“What happened?”

Mary ran into the kitchen at that, eyes wide as Marisa coughed and leaned away from the bag in her hands, which was  _ steaming.  _ Actually steaming and smoking. Mary gasped and took it from Marisa, dropping it as the bulging surface scorched her hands but then picking it up again by the edges and throwing it into the sink. The monkey was right by her side, reaching to turn on the faucet as Mary coughed, too, and then arranged the bag directly below the stream of water.

“How long did you put it in there?” Mary asked her.

“Five minutes,” said Marisa stuffily, avoiding Mary’s gaze and looking instead up at one of the top cabinets.

“Oh, no, Marisa,” Mary let out. Marisa didn’t need to look at her to feel the look of  _ pity  _ that crossed the other woman’s face. “That’s way too long. No more than three minutes is okay.”

“Well, the directions didn’t specify.” Marisa was feeling overly defensive and sensitive about it all. She knew that she was. She swept past both Mary and her daemon and went over to the liquor cabinet, where she pulled out a bottle of whiskey. 

“Hey,” came Mary’s soft voice, and then Marisa felt arms wrap around her from behind. She stiffened as Mary’s head came to rest in the crook of her neck and as her arms squeezed around Marisa’s torso. She allowed Mary to hug her, to hold her, but she didn’t say anything.

“It’s alright,” Mary murmured in her ear, moving to place a light kiss on it. “You didn’t know.”

“Why are even the most simple of things so hard for me?” Marisa shook out of Mary’s embrace to pour her glass and then stomp away, headed back over to the living room. Mary and the golden monkey followed, watching her very carefully as if she were going to combust. Marisa plopped down on the sofa and tucked her legs underneath her, taking a large sip and then glaring over at the television. The movie had started already. They were missing everything.

“Because they’re new to you.” Mary sunk down onto the spot beside her. Marisa looked at her sideways and saw that she was gazing at her with such pure, unadulterated care and understanding. “How are you supposed to know things you’ve never learned?”

She was right. Of  _ course _ she was right, although Marisa would never say it to her. But the monkey knew. As her soul and her solid companion, he felt and understood every single thing she did, and thus chittered triumphantly in Mary’s ear. Marisa again turned her attention to the movie, trying to obtain  _ any  _ semblance of what was happening and to avoid whatever Mary was going to do next. 

“I’ll go make us another bag,” Mary said after a few minutes, humming softly as she got up and headed toward the kitchen. The golden monkey remained, though, sitting quietly on the back of the couch behind where Mary had just been sitting. 

“Oh, go on,” Marisa finally sighed to him, nodding her head toward the kitchen. He shot her a grateful glance as he hopped down and trotted over to her, tail high in the air.

It was very strange, this new world and Marisa’s new life with Mary and the Dark Matter Research Group. There was so much she didn't know and so much she wanted to do, even if she wasn't quite able to figure it out. But it would do. One kernel at a time, Marisa supposed, finishing her drink and sinking deeper into the comfortable couch cushion. 

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclaimer: YES, I burned some popcorn so just had to write this :/ Anyway, Marisa and Mary strike me as the most interesting, never-supposed-to-be-together couple and I just can't stop writing about them. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
